Flame and Bronze
by Kled
Summary: The red dragon Keligastrimask rules his territory as a greedy and foul tyrant. One autumn day though, his life is interrupted as a female, justice-upholding bronze dragon, Syvanarosk, comes challenging his authority. What follows is a vicious battle that leaves the prideful chromatic dragon injured. Unwilling to kill him, Syvanarosk chooses to watch over and possibly vindicate him.
1. Chapter 1: The Tyrant of Idiskand

The sun lurking over the far-off horizon had begun to set as Keligastrimask returned to his mountainous lair. The red dragon, chiefest subspecies of the chromatic dragons, was an adult specimen of a healthy and physically fit, but still somewhat youthful quality. As his massive wings beat rapidly to carry his gigantic, scaly body through the blue sky, wind and air were pushed back by the muscular appendages, practically creating a draft of their own. The mountain he headed to itself was a large formation of nature standing alone above a forest full of colorful autumn trees, and overlooked a large, clear lake where he occasionally visited to quench his thirst.

His mind kept thinking with glee of how good of a day it was for him today. As he spent most of it surveying his far-reaching territory, he happened upon a traveling horse-drawn wagon and its rider, and reacted as he usually did with this kind of intrusion. After unleashing a torrent of flame that burned the wagon to a crisp, he filled his belly with the perfectly-cooked horse and merchant and stole away what material possessions that survived his searing flames. More gold to add to his already-impressive fortune, if he did say so himself. As with all red dragons, he had a particularly strong and stubborn greed for absolutely anything worth a monetary value, and gold, among other things, was one of his favorites.

Shiny, treasured _gold_.

A wide and mirthful grin, showing off his white, sharp fangs, emerged on his long, reptilian snout as he gracefully (for a dragon, anyhow) landed upon the rocky surface of his cave's entrance, scattering pebbles and stray bits of rock with a final sweep of his wings. With one foreclaw still held close to his side, the freshly-pilfered goods resting inside of his palm, Keligastrimask folded his wings neatly behind his back. Flicking his long, powerful tail once, he slunk inside where his patiently-awaiting stash of treasure rested.

After a scant few seconds of motion he finally reached his favorite spot in this entire world. The glittering bed of gold, jewels, and the occasional gem-studded weapon or armor sat like a pool of water, waiting for him to bask in its wondrous sheen. All of it was taken from the neighboring town sitting within his territory, trading caravans, and the few fools who dared to try and get too close to his domain. All of it was _his_. He had encountered but two other dragons that encroached upon his land looking for a place of their own; neither of them more than idiot wyrmlings that didn't last against his superior might, barely standing a chance.

Dropping the newest addition to his collection into it with a small clatter of the coins, he practically jumped into the hoard and shamelessly began to utterly wallow in it, murmuring a booming chuckle that reverberated from within the deepest recesses of his flame-spewing throat. He completely buried himself within the pile of precious metals and gemstones, only to pop his ruby-red, black-horned head out of it and lazily close his glimmering yellow eyes. Hot smoke exited his nostrils in a small cloud as he exhaled a sigh of faux-contentment that surely wouldn't last more than a day before his hunger to expand his wealth would surely get the better of him.

As he got comfy in his pile, his eyes opened slightly and looked around his spacious lair for something else that might pique his interest. They looked to the beautiful treasure that covered most of it, they glanced to the rock walls, and they stared up at the stalactite-riddled ceiling, before inevitably drifting back down to the gold. Keligastrimask felt nothing but pride for himself and what he had accomplished so far in his lifetime. He had hatched from an egg so many years ago as a naive infant, and grown into a strong and clever adult with the greatest material company any of his kind longed for, yet few really gained.

For what better treasure in this plane of existence was there than this?

* * *

Syvanarosk, currently veiled in the form of a female human bearing a yellowish-brown, hooded cape over her thin body, walked slowly through the town of Idiskand. Her green eyes, still bearing a small glow that left a subtle hint as to what being she truly was, looked everywhere as she scanned her surroundings.

The wood covering several intact houses was scorched and black like charcoal, and that was without speaking of the houses left in burned ruin. The stench of sulfur, though greatly aged, still hung heavy in the air, clinging to it like a wretched parasite. The disguised bronze dragon sighed dejectedly, truly saddened by the carnage that remained from the last assault endured by this place and only feeling it increasing as she saw the poor and pitiable citizens pass her by; each one looking at her with frightful and anxious eyes at having a stranger in their midst. Syvanarosk knew another dragon had done this, and it was a chromatic one. From the smell alone, she knew that of all the chromatic dragons to stain this particular country, it was a red one.

The chromatic dragons; descended from the accursed and damnable spawn of the evil draconid goddess Tiamat, were all incomparably vile beings. Their passions were unlike the noble and good nature of the metallic dragons, if not the complete opposite. All they ever felt was selfishness, avarice, violence, and the need to cause as much depression-inducing destruction as their blind and irrational hatred could muster within their pitch-black hearts.

Syvanarosk herself, being a bronze dragon, fit happily into the metallic dragon category. Also due to her precise species, she was inherently a being who sought to use her power to bring other, more foul creatures to justice. She was also quite active for most of her kind, for she scoured the world restlessly in search of any wickedness to defeat and imprison, or - at the most extreme - put down for good. Now, after receiving word from passing caravans of the struggles that went on here at the last city she made her temporary residence in, it was this town that had caught her full attention. And upon being no less than ten minutes into this place, she had seen all the terrible problems it was cursed with.

Shortly after having a look at the place, she was in the town hall, speaking with the mayor of Idiskand. The man was a stout and balding human with a pot belly that was hidden beneath the folds of his green-textured clothing; his attire itself fit for one in such a political position, but not showcasing any form of extreme wealth most humans in leadership positions were known for. Despite sending him a message beforehand foretelling of her arrival, when Syvanarosk arrived and made her presence known to him he began to sweat profusely in worry of what manner of being he was speaking to, even with all the times afterword that she comforted him with words of meaning him or his town no harm. Eventually he did calm down, and he invited her to dinner to discuss things.

"How long has he been terrorizing this place?" Syvanarosk asked over the classically prepared human meal consisting of a mixture of meat-and-bread food that sat in front of her.

The man, having not touched a single thing on his plate since sitting down at the large, round table, held his fingers in a tent when not actively brushing them through his black mustache. "For almost a year-and-a-half now," he soon replied. "The beast is a menace unlike any other that has come to Idiskand. Save for you, I've never seen a live dragon until he showed up out of the blue one day, and I had no idea that they could get to a size such as what I've witnessed first-hand. Neither did I know they were so fiercely... _intelligent_ as well."

Syvanarosk put her chalice down after taking a sip of the wine it held and placed a finger to her chin. "He's been extorting your people for what they have, has he not?"

The mayor nodded glumly. "According to the 'deal' he set forth, he demands to be given a set amount of gold once every month in exchange for our lives. I've been forced to tax the town dry to keep him from burning it down, and I'm thankful to the gods that my people have not rebelled against this action yet. The dragon will occasionally fly over from his home in the way-off Mount Idrasange and spit one or two flames upon some of the buildings in order to let us know that he is still alive and well, but only once before has he ever caused destruction of a significant scale."

"And what caused this?" A hint of curiosity was in her tone as she asked.

"My subordinates have agreed that it was something akin to a frustrated tantrum. We know not what caused it, but when it occurred was last spring. We rebuilt and moved on as best as we could."

Syvanarosk hummed to herself as she mulled things over, allowing silence to come between the and herself. Sighing upon coming to a conclusion she liked most and rubbing a pale-skinned hand through the short brown hair her polymorphed human form possessed, she stood up from her seat with a squeak of its skinny legs over the wooden floor.

"If you will excuse me, kind sir, I must retreat and plan out my strategy. Knowing red dragons, he will have his own well-prepared and thoroughly thought-out strategies for battles of most kinds," she spoke, bowing respectfully to the mayor. "I hope you get yourself a good night's rest and look to the future, for the next time we meet, your conundrum will be quelled. I bid you farewell."

"And... you as well, dragon," said the mayor, nodding back. Keeping her mostly expressionless face, Syvanarosk propped her hood back over her head and made her way to the door, where she exited into the night street with a dreadful creaking of old hinges.


	2. Chapter 2: Setting the Trap

Far away from Idiskand, in the mostly-open field that came in between the large town and the surrounding forest, a small fire was going on in an equally small pit of rocks. Three shapes surrounded it at varying distances, taking in the heat amidst the cold night, and each one had reptilian features to them. They were kobolds.

In spite of their typical reclusive natures, these three kobolds had the boiling blood of adventurers running through their veins, and so were quickly and unritualistically kicked from their clan. Not despairing, they traveled the land in search of one they could serve; a new master, hopefully a dragon in need of revering who traveled often. Who they found was Syvanarosk. The bronze dragon did not expect to possess her own servants, but she allowed the three to be her companions, so long as they could keep up with her.

Like the forever loyal servants they made themselves out to be, they had now followed her here. They wished, and were also told, not to trail her into the human town however. They might not have hated them as much as gnomes, but they still despised humans with a fiery passion.

And so the three camped out. Fathis, a kobold with steel armor covering over his brown scales and wearing a slightly-converted knight's helm over his head, was the one currently assigned to watch for their wise and noble master's return upon a large boulder several feet from the fire. Verit, a long spear resting against his leather armor and green-scaled skin, was sitting on a hewn-down log with his claws held on either side of his head, trying his best to blot out the accursed noise that was his last associate, Ree, who was currently singing a song.

" _...and so all that falls is the rain!_ " Ree sang, running his claws across the strings on the overly-large lute he held, producing an honed musical sound. A 'bard' (or so he claimed to be), Ree wore blue-and-yellow clothing over most of his body as his choice of attire, with a poofy red beret holding a white feather quill sticking from it atop his head. While not utterly despising humans, but also not liking them to a fair degree, that wasn't to say he had a queer fascination with them. Finally finished with his piece, he bowed low and humbly as Fathis clapped enthusiastically from where he was. Now that he was done, Verit exhaled a loud breath of relief and was finally able to take his hands off of his ears, after which he picked up the half-eaten squirrel he had cooked a few minutes before on a stick and resumed consuming it.

Despite his happiness that Ree had finally shut his mouth and stopped his senseless strumming of his stupid instrument, the patient silence eventually became too much for poor Verit. Turning back to Ree, he threw the now-empty stick into the fire and spoke up. "Do you know why we're here, Ree?"

"What's it?" asked Ree, using a claw to push his beret up enough so that his glassy, dull-yellow eyes could see through it. "Oh, the Lady said a great and terrible red dragon haunts these lands. S'been scaring the humans like the pissants they are. She wants to fight him and chase him off."

"A red dragon? Fierce, fierce!" yelled the high-pitched voice of Fathis from where he stood far off, still looking through his helmet's visor for a sign of their master.

"Red dragons are amongst the strongest of their kind," agreed Verit. "Our lady must be brave and powerful to challenge one on its own turf."

"For she _must_ be the _greatest_ of _all_ dragons, and simply wants to show it. She wants to flaunt her skills and reveal to all why she deserves our fervent worship; to dance with death itself and come out as the one leading," continued the eccentric, self-proclaimed bard with a hand held to the black sky. "Oh, such a noble one our master is. Defending the weak and wretched from the wrath of the evil and powerful. It reminds me of another song I wrote, in fact! Shall I play it?"

"N-no! Stop!" cried Verit. Too late the plea was, for Ree had already begun after clearing his throat with a cough.

" _Oh great Syvanarosk, one who is worthy of praise! Worthy of love, and admiraaation! To only you, we-_ "

"Hark! Our lady returns to us!" suddenly came the excited and happy squawk of Fathis, thankfully interrupting Ree before he could properly get into his song, stopping his tongue where it fluttered in his snouted mouth. Ree and Verit both turned from the fire and toward their ally, who was pointing to a shape walking closer to them through the night. Indeed, true to the words of the watch-kobold, it was Syvanarosk in her human form. She walked up toward the fire with Fathis in tow, and knelt in front of it. The orange flames seemed to dance about as she silently sat there with a peaceful mien about her.

"How fared your visit with the humans?" Verit respectfully asked in a quiet voice as a few minutes passed.

"It went well. I have all the information I require," Syvanarosk responded in the gentle tone she always treated her kobolds with. "And now I will put it to use."

"What is your plan?" Fathis curiously inquired.

To this, Syvanarosk let out a hum. "For tonight I must meditate and prepare my attack on the creature. When dawn comes, I will enact it."

"Shall we help you?" again asked Verit, moving his spear into a different position in his hands, his eagerness showing.

"No," said she, raising a hand to calm him. "This is a fight between dragons only. Your lives would be like ants attempting to combat a frog."

"Our lives are paltry compared to your mighty well-being," came the insisting tone of Fathis. "As long as we serve a form of distraction toward him, long enough for you to defeat him, our fates will be complete and without regret."

Though their enthusiasm amused Syvanarosk to a degree, her answer was still the same. "You will only get in the way, my servants. Leave this red wyrm to me."

"Then very well..." sighed Ree. He took his lute's strap off of his body, put the object away, and began to ready himself for sleep through what remained of the night. Following in his example, Verit and Fathis also got into restful positions where they lied, leaving Syvanarosk as the only still awake in front of the dwindling flame, still plotting away within her collected mind.

* * *

Morning came swiftly to the world. With the first rays of yellow light striking against Mount Idrasange, Keligastrimask's eyes slowly began to peel open and awake as he started to stir. His mouth expanding wide and long tongue lolling out, he yawned loud enough to cause the walls around him to quiver with its magnitude. As he gradually uncovered himself from his precious horde of wealth, his pile shifted around, scattering about the various gold coins and other miscellaneous objects that made it up.

Without much delay in his stride he began to head for the exit to his lair after making a final glance toward his fortune. He knew that upon leaving to search for a meal, the kobold tribe living within his mountain would come out to tidy up and clean his lair of whatever dust and dirt happened to have gotten in, and later on would present their offerings of jewels and valued metals they mined up during the week. Bearing such loyal and venerating servants inflated the great wyrm's ego tremendously, and only reinforced the vain beast's view of himself as a figure worthy of respect, envy and admiration.

As he exited the cavern and allowed the sunlight to illuminate his brilliantly red scales he noticed the yellow sun was now a fair distance above the partially cloudy blue sky, indicating that it was late morning. Approaching the edge of the area that faced over the countryside, he looked out to it with a puffed chest and a rigid expression on his face.

Staring over the forest of his vast territory, he glared at it all possessively and proudly. Sucking in a deep breath of the cool autumn air into his lungs, he unleashed a thunderous roar that echoed throughout the entirety of the land, telling all rival dragons who were simply passing through and heard his call of who its rightful proprietor was. When the noise died down several seconds after he had finished, Keligastrimask stretched his wings out as far as they would go and leapt from the edge of the cliff; pushing off from it with his long, thick, muscular and sinewy forelegs and skinnier rear legs. Flapping hard, his wings quickly bore him through the sky at a great velocity.

There was much game of a grand variety to be hunted in these expansive woodlands. While he found elves and female humans to be of a more exquisite flavor, as did the rest of his kind, the former was scarce in these parts and the latter didn't feel worth the effort of attempting to snatch up this morning. So instead he decided to scan over the forests, looking for any animals unfortunate enough to grace his view.

As Keligastrimask became a red speck in the mountain-strewn horizon, Syvanarosk moved from her cover in the trees sitting under the looming shadow of the mountain. Having shed her human disguise and now appearing in her true form, the world could see that the bronze dragon's scales bore a vibrant, reflective copper color, and her wings had specks of green along them, most prominent at the tips. On her head, three main horns of a large size protruded from each cheek, pointing back towards her long, fin-like, and altogether deadly tail. Two horns of a greater size sat in a similar fashion on her crown, two smaller horns stuck out from either side of the base of her jaw, as well as another pair that rested on the tip of her chin; curved slightly inward and pointing down.

She quickly flapped her large wings and took of into the air, circling around the mountain until she found a spot where she could perch herself on the rock that jutted out from its middle. Landing on it, she eventually stopped flapping her wings and clung to the surface of it as well as she could manage until she felt stable on it.

After getting a good grip on the rock, she retracted her flight appendages and began to look into her mind to what magic she knew, and a few seconds later she used the spell she thought was best. It was one she learned a long time ago in her youth from a mischievous and tricky old copper dragon.

Syvanarosk was not invisible, but the illusion she cast made it so a similar effect took place. Only if one happened to focus their sight directly on where she was lying would be able to make out her draconic form against the mountainside, but even if she was just out of the corner of their eye, they would fail to notice her. She knew it had worked, as some birds who had roosted on the mountain's cliffside or emerged from the forest began to pass her by; flying and tweeting their tunes, not sensing anything wrong in the slightest.

Her plan had been set in motion. The red dragon would inevitably return, and when he did however many hours later, she would be ready to ambush him.

And there, with calm patience a lesser being would be unnerved at, she waited.


End file.
